


Why Not?

by Spinofflady



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinofflady/pseuds/Spinofflady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short and fluffy one shot based on Stoick and Valka's blossoming relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Not?

Valka sat on a stump, a canvass propped up in front of her. She was surrounded by wildflowers, and the mid day sun seemed to make their colors fluorescent. The breeze rustled through her long brown locks. She breathed in the clean smell of the meadow. Oh, how she loved Berk in the spring!

She picked up her wooden pallet, dotted with color, and scooped up some blue on her brush. She skillfully spread the paint across the canvass, using long, gentle strokes. The technique gave the sky a wispy, realistic look. She added green to the bottom half of her work, then dabbed a few flowers onto her grassy meadow.

Out here it was so quiet, so peaceful. She could escape the noisy village and avoided her overwhelming fellow Vikings. Well, not quite fellow. She was an introvert, not a Viking. She sighed heavily as she dabbed a yellow flower in the wrong place. She glanced up at the meadow, trying to find a way to fix her mistake. A little yellow bird sat on a rock, chirping his heart out. Valka mixed a few colors together until it matched the rock. She quickly added the rock and bird to her painting, and was pleasantly surprised when she could hardly tell that the mistake had happened.

“That’s nice,” someone said behind her.

Startled, Valka gasped and dropped her pallet on the ground as she whirled around. Her arm hit the easel and her painting toppled over backward. Her cheeks reddened as she realized it was only Stoick. Oh, lovely! She had just made herself look like a royal idiot. And in front of the Chief’s son, no less.

Stoick, however, looked almost as surprised as she was. “Sorry,” he apologized awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw your work, and it was nicely done, so…”

“Don't be sorry,” Valka replied, dropping to her knees to pick up her paints, which had been scattered among the flowers. “I startle too easily.”

Stoick bent to help her gather up the tiny jars.

“Oh, you don't have to-”

“I insist.” Stoick held up a hand to stop her. “I startled you. It's only fair that I help you clean up the mess I inadvertently caused.”

Valka glanced up at him, confused. Why was he acting so strangely? He was always so uptight and fierce and, well... _stoic_. He was so gentle now, as if he actually had a soft side.

Stoick passed her the small jars of paint. She took them without a word and packed them into her bag in a meticulous fashion. She picked up her painting and folded up the easel, then sat back down on the ground. Her long chocolate hair, easily reaching her knees when braided, rested on the ground beside her. Valka fished out a rag from her bag and began to rub the painting down, trying to achieve a blurry effect.

“So,” Stoick began in his deep, commanding voice. “What brings you so far out here?” He seated himself beside her.

“I’m just…painting. I like to get away from the village sometimes. The real question is, however, what are _you_ doing so far out here?”

Stoick chuckled. “Avoiding my dad.”

“Oh, dear. What did you do?”

“Nothing. I just needed some time to process. I got the “big talk” today.”

Valka glanced up at him, appalled. “I should have thought you would’ve gotten that years ago!”

The young man furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not following her. “Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly. “Not that talk. My dad just wants me to take over the village soon. I’m not sure if I’m ready. I’m not sure I even want to be.”

“Why not?” Valka asked, going back to work. “You’ll make a fine chief.”

“Thank you, but I don’t agree.”

“Why not?”

“Well…I don’t know. I just don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s getting on my nerves.”

“Oh, well! Pardon me!” Valka mocked, grinning.

“Nah,” Stoick shrugged. “I don’t pardon people who get on my nerves.”

“Pretty please?” Valka clasped her hands together and batted her eye lashes, giving him the most pitiful look she could muster.

“I suppose I could pardon you just this once,” he decided finally. “If you gave me a good reason to.”

“Why not?”

“That didn’t help your case at all.”

“Why not?”

“Still not helping.”

“Fine.” Valka grew serious. “You should pardon me because that’s what a gracious chief would do, and because I’m a lady and that’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Fair enough,” Stoick agreed. “I hereby pardon you.”

“Now was that so hard?” Valka looked at him knowingly. “You won’t have any trouble being chief, will you?” She smiled playfully.

Stoick laughed sarcastically. “I see what you did. Gave me my first chiefing lesson, huh?”

“Now you won’t have to worry about a thing.” She beamed smartly.

Stoick’s smile faded. “The chiefing part isn’t really what I’m worried about. My father wants me to marry soon.”

“What’s wrong with that? Do you have something against marriage?”

“No, no.” He swallowed thickly. “I just don’t know if I could choose a wife; one that would help me chief well. I don’t feel ready.”

“You’re twenty-two, Stoick. You should be fine. You know yourself; therefore it will be easier for you to choose a partner. After all, it’s not like you’re choosing from a surplus of strangers.”

Stoick glanced up nervously. “I was honestly thinking we could get married.”

Valka dropped her rag in shock. “What?! Why me?!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because I am not a chief’s wife. I can hardly bring myself to speak to one person naturally, let along an entire village. I can give speeches or think on my feet. I’m a complete introvert. And, I that’s not reason enough, we can’t just decide to get married! We might end up hating each other!”

“I didn’t mean now. You’re only eighteen, after all.” Stoick placed a hand on her shoulder. “Here’s why not. I like you. You’re not like the other girls. All they can think about is marriage and children and hot guys. I like you’re imagination. You a ten million times more interesting than they are. I like how to come up here to paint instead of bugging people at the great hall. I think you’re amazing, talented, and beautiful. That’s why not.”

Valka struggled for words. “I- I guess that’s a good reason.”

“Good.” Stoick smiled, appearing relieved. “I’ll speak to your father. If you’re willing, that is.”

Valka nodded, stunned. Stoick wanted to marry _her_? Even as quiet, fearful, and introverted as she was? He wanted _her_?

He smiled at her. “You should get home.” He said, encouraging her to go. “It will be dark soon.”

“I can’t,” she replied flatly.

“Why not?”

She grinned. “You’re sitting on my hair.”

At that, Stoick flushed one of the deepest shades of red she’d ever seen. He stood up quickly, and helped her up as well. He handed her the art supplies. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked sheepishly, his cheeks still flaming.

“I don’t see why not,” she said with a smile. She planted a quick smile on his cheek and turned and ran across the meadow toward home.

 

**_AND THUS WAS THE END OF ONE STORY, AND THE BEGINNING OF ANOTHER_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Well? What do you think? This is my first attempt at a one shot. Actually, Night of the Dragon Riders was supposed to be a one shot, but it didn't end up that way.
> 
> Feedback is beyond welcome. 
> 
> ~Spinofflady


End file.
